Etiquette
by Small Bombs
Summary: Sequel to 13 yen  "It's not weird at all. It's not like we just met, Ange-san, and we aren't just friends." AmaAnge, one-shot, PWP.


_This is supposed to take place after 13 yen. That is supposed to take place after The butterfly effect. FFFF I HAVE TO STOP OBSESSING WITH THIS UNIVERSE._

_Anyway, here's a little special I wrote, inspired by img267 .imageshack. us/ img267 /3313/ 1279654539051. jpg With extra cheesy, just for you._

* * *

"... hah..."

"... A... Ange-san..."

Her moans were quiet, nearly inaudible, but that was just part of the fun— It was a challenge, to make that brat moan his name. To make her admit that she was enjoying herself even if she growled, squirmed, and resisted whenever they began their game. Her expression would change slowly into one of embarrassment as her body reacted in ways she couldn't really control and every time her voice rose, he'd feel a shiver run down his back and he'd thrust harder into her, movements growing erratic as he wanted to hear more of her gasps. She'd blush, ashamed of the sound of her own lewd voice, cursing, insulting him in her head but never wishing for him to stop that sweet torture.

Ange's hands desperately looked for anything to hold onto— Their bodies were obscenely slippery, some of the soap still lingering on their skin after he had interrupted their bath by suddenly taking her out of the shower and laying her on the floor (and not even asking if she was in the mood or not.) The bathroom floor wasn't an option, as it was cold and wet; so she had to settle with grabbing his wrists, gritting her teeth to keep his name from escaping her mouth as he started rubbing her insides mercilessly— whether it was to make him stop or keep going, she didn't know. Amakusa gasped, not even trying to hide how much fun he was having, and his fingers bit her fleshy waist to keep his little treat from running away.

"Nn... your body is amazing, Ange-san... you just keep tightening..."

She felt her ears grow impossibly hot— What the hell was she supposed to respond to that! Even after she had lost count of how many times they had sex, it still shocked her how easily he could say those embarrassing things (and how violently her body reacted to them, inner walls twitching and stealing a groan from him).

Scowling, all she could do was mutter under her breath:

"Shut up..."

And she reached out her arms, silently asking him to lean forward, and he did, grinning— _Finally, _oh, _finally_ she had reached her breaking point: Too tired to resist, to pretend she wasn't enjoying it, to finally _cooperate_— Oh, if only she could reach it faster, he thought, lazily returning her kisses, slowing down his rhythm just for a second to adjust to their new position. Her fingers got lost in his hair, pulling, tangling, guiding him to spots that would make her feel good, her cheeks, her neck, her breasts, and he licked every spot, ignoring the bitter taste of the soap on her skin.

"Am... Amakusa..." Ah— there it was, there it was! That shiver that made all their fights worth a damn, running down his spine to his hips, making him buck them violently against her.

"Ah... sh... shit... you're driving me insane here..."

She hugged his head, muttering at him to shut up, to stop saying those things, and her legs wrapped around his waist, commanding him to thrust deeper inside— It was during those moments that he'd lose control of the situation, and Ange could feel his skin trembling against her own as he made a valiant effort not to come right there, ignoring his body's urgent call for release on her behalf. Eventually, a known warmth started taking over her limbs too, insides tickling in anticipation, and she threw her head back.

"Hah... I'm...! Ama...!"

Skin slapping against skin, they both came in unison, muscles tense only for a moment before relaxing, both of them huffing and puffing as a gentle afterglow took over them. Smiling contently, he buried his nose in her chest and Ange sighed, brushing back her fringe that kept clinging uncomfortably to her forehead.

"... I'm lasting less and less the more we do this..." He had problems suppressing a yawn. "You're getting better, lady."

"Or maybe you're just getting old."

He pinched her side, growling something against her breasts that she didn't quite catch.

"... I'd like to at least make you say my name when you're coming, though... That voice— Just remembering makes me want to do it again~" Ange tsked, avoiding his lips when he tried to kiss her. "Hmph. You're so difficult."

"We already did it twice today, Amakusa— And it's, what, 10 AM? My legs ache, my back hurts..."

"Heh. Who's getting old, again?" She frowned, sitting up when he finally freed her from his weight.

"Shut up. Also, I did say your name, remember? So you can die in peace or whatever."

"No, you said 'Ama.' I have no idea who that guy is." Ange rolled her eyes.

"You're picky." She got up from the floor, throwing a dry towel to him when she started feeling cold in spite of the warm steam that came from the shower. "It's not my fault your name is so long, anyway."

"But my name isn't long at all..."

"Are you kidding me? 'Amakusa' is pretty long if you ask me."

"I meant my _actual_ name, lady."

"Oh..."

Right. She was so used to calling him 'Amakusa' that she had forgotten that was just his family name. She still clicked her tongue and looked away— the sole idea of calling him _that_ was...

"... weird. It's weird. Can't I just call you Amakusa?" He sighed and scratched his head.

"It's not weird at all. It's not like we just met, Ange-san, and we aren't just friends. Besides, we're in America— Everyone calls everyone else by their first names here, so who cares?"

That was true— In fact, it was still a bit shocking for her when they would nonchalantly call her 'Ange' without an honorific to soften the blow. In Japan, on the other hand, doing that was very rude and only reserved to people one was close to, namely family, childhood friends and... _lovers_. She felt her stomach tickle.

"So you want me to call you, uh..."

"Juuza."

Ange tensed up immediately, and he snorted.

"Is it really that hard?"

"It's weird."

"Heh. Try saying it."

"... J... Juu..."

She felt her cheeks grow a little hot— it was ridiculous, how it felt that just by saying his name she was confessing to something shameful— _confirming _their status of lovers. It was such a petty little thing yet, for some reason, she couldn't just _say it_, and it was even worse as she felt his demanding gaze on her. Ange nearly ran to the bedroom with nothing but her towel, and Amakusa patiently followed, grinning like he was having the time of his life.

"I couldn't hear you back there, Ange-san~"

"J... It's... weird..." He sighed, and Ange glared back. "Fine then— Why don't _you_ try dropping the honorific first and then ask me to do this weird stuff?"

"Hah. I can drop the honorific whenever I want, Ange." She cursed under her breath. "It's one of the many benefits of leaving Japan and their stupid etiquette behind for so many years, see." His hands sneaked around her waist, guiding her to the bed while ignoring her grumbling. "How can you know that you don't like it if you haven't even tried it yet?"

"Stop, I said I don't want to...!"

He still pushed her to their unmade bed and got rid of both of their towels, taking advantage as Ange was too busy fighting that irrational side of hers that was keeping her from doing something _so. Freaking._ _Simple._

Even though their relationship was anything but normal, always in that blurry gray zone between love and hate, she couldn't deny they weren't just friends anymore— Hell, she wasn't even sure if they had ever been friends in the first place... partners, maybe? Comrades? Or...

Ugh, it was useless, useless. What did it matter? Formal titles like that were of no use to them, anyway. All she knew was that even if he was an idiot, a smug idiot that liked to pretend he was so clever, an annoying idiot that knew how to push all her buttons... She... didn't hate him...

Oh, just...

"... Juuza."

That alone earned her a deep, sweet kiss, and she wondered if he could feel her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it, Ange-sa...? Ah—" He stopped in his tracks, and Ange smiled.

"You were saying?" He growled, but didn't stop grinning against her lips.

"Give me a break. I've been calling you that for more than a year. At least give me some time to adjust..."

"Fine. I'll ask you the same, then, Amakusa."

He laughed- He could never win against that little bitch, could he?

And even if she sighed and complained that she was tired, he used the sheets to cover them both, calculating that it would take them about an hour in that bed to get used to their new 'adjustment.'


End file.
